Wrongly Accused
by SherlockDW2013
Summary: Sherlock is arrested as a suspect for murder once a serial killer if found dead. In the end, his innocence is found too late. In his cell, something happens to the detective that traumatizes him to the max. Will he ever be the same again? Or will he be forever the empty shell of a once great man? Definite Triggers in Later Chapters. *CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN*
1. Chapter 1

"Oh for God sake Lestrade!" Sherlock Holmes growled as he was shoved onto the bonnet of a police car bonnet by another man who snapped handcuffs onto his wrists. Lestrade merely shook his head

"Sorry mate" he began "A serial killer, that only you and I knew about, wound up dead in his apartment?"

"And you think I killed him?"

"Most of the department does" the DI replied curtly

"What the Hell is going on?!" John Watson's voice roared, causing everyone to look up in surprise "Lestrade, what did he do now?"

"He's a suspect for murder." Donovan sneered

"Really?" John folded his arms and huffed "Just like when you searched our flat during a drugs bust? Or when he was accused for kidnapping? Or maybe that time when he was a 'fraud'?"

"He has a point" Lestrade quipped

"But this time we have strong evidence" Sally snapped and John raised an accusing eyebrow  
>"And last time you didn't?" Sherlock flashed an amused smile to his flatmate<br>"It's fine, John. I'll be back before you can say Baker Street" Sherlock gave one last smile before being pushed into the waiting vehicle.  
>John looked on silently as Sherlock was driven off.<p>

"Baker Street…" he whispered quietly

~~  
>Sherlock was shoved harshly into the holding cell. He gained his composure the moment the door was clicked shut<p>

"You've made a mistake" Sherlock said mockingly, rolling his eyes in annoyance  
>"That's what they all say" A voice snapped from outside. Sherlock huffed before stiffening as he realised he wasn't alone. He turned slightly and saw a big looking man in the corner. He was bald and tattoos decorated the exposed flesh. He was wearing a clean, white vest and his bare arms were covered in scars and tattoos were here and there on the skin.<p>

_How Ironic_, Sherlock thought bitterly. The room was pretty simple. There was a bed tucked in a corner; a window just above it. The man was sitting on the bed so Sherlock walked to the far side of the room and slid against the wall and to the floor. He sighed quietly and steepled his fingers under his chin.  
>He opened his eyes when he realised the bigger man was staring at him curiously<p>

"Are you Sherlock 'Olmes?" he asked in a thick London accent

"I am" Sherlock said cautiously.

He would be out soon. He would be back with John…

Just a little longer…


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS RAPE IN. IF THIS IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER. YOU MAY READ THE ONE AFTER WHICH IS TO COME SOON. I HAVE TRIED NOT TO MAKE IT TOO EXPLICIT OR DETAILED. THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING A CHAPTER LIKE THIS, SO PLEASE BE NICE.**_

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><p>The huge man smirked and stood up. He was tall, almost as tall as Sherlock himself. The detective's eyes narrowed at the action<p>

"You may not remember me" the man began "Bit I certainly remember _you_" Sherlock shuddered at the ice in his tone but remained strong

"You were the one who put me in here" the man continued with a dark chuckle

"Oh did I?" Sherlock sneered

"Yes, you did. Mr _Sherlock. Holmes_" the man's voice echoed in Sherlock's mind before his brain gave an almighty kick

"Marcus" he whispered.

_Marcus Carlton. Accused of murdering 2 women 3 months ago. Minimum 5 years imprisonment. During the Case, Sherlock was kidnapped by him and was almost sexually harassed before John and Lestrade rescued him_

"I knew you'd get it eventually" Marcus spat coldly "At least 5 years I'm gonna be in 'ere. All because of you. But…" he trailed off before flashing a sinister smile "now you're here with me, I can do what I've wanted to do since we were rudely interrupted last time" Sherlock invisibly pressed himself further into the cold corner he was curled in as dread gathered in the pit of his stomach

"If you lay a hand on me, you will be in here for longer." He snapped, staying firm "I will be here for merely 5 minutes"

"5 minutes is all I need"

Marcus strode to Sherlock's position against the wall and Sherlock opened his mouth to scream but a hand clamped over his lips before he could utter a single syllable  
>"Ah, Ah, Ah." Marcus hissed in Sherlock's ear and made the detective squirm slightly, clawing at the hands. Marcus grabbed the flailing wrists and held them suspended in the air "Don't want to be disturbed again do we?"<p>

Sherlock's scarf was yanked off his neck harshly and began to wound around his head and mouth so his cries and shouts would be muffled. The hand was removed and the scarf was securely in place, Sherlock tried to stand but his legs scrabbled against the smooth surface of the floor. He received a grunt of annoyance for his efforts and the hand around his wrists tightened. Realisation hit the curly haired man.

_This is actually happening._

Sherlock was yanked harshly and he was forced to kneel on his knees on the cold floor, his hands being held painfully behind his back. He tried to scream but his objections were muffled by the gag in his mouth.

_Oh Dear God no_ Sherlock thought as he felt Marcus's hand unbuckle his belt. Sherlock kicked out with his leg but failed to find his target. He received a punch in the jaw that made his vision swim. He was too dazed that he didn't feel Marcus unbuckling his belt and yanking his trousers and undergarments down. The ice cold air wafted onto Sherlock's bare backside, snapping him back to reality.

"Geth off mer!" Sherlock shouted and thrashed violently.

"I don't think so" Marcus mocked and his grip tightened on Sherlock's wrists

"Stop it!" Sherlock cried as he heard a zipper being lowered and something press into his ass. Sherlock screwed his eyes shut.

_Jesus Christ. This cannot be happening. This is a dream. This had to be a Godforsaken dream_

Marcus snapped his hips forward, embedding his manhood into Sherlock's ass causing the Detective to scream in pain. The scarf did its job and stifled the sobs and cries.  
>The Agony.<br>Oh dear God the _Agony_. It was _Unbearable_. Sherlock tried to think of something else but failed. He even tried to lock himself in his Mind Palace but the doors were sealed shut. Tears were staining his pale cheeks and his fingers dug into his palms, his arms still bent back painfully back. The sting was nothing.

He let out a chocked sob as Marcus thrusted again and again.

_In._

_Out._

_In_

_Out._

_In._

_Out_

Sherlock felt something run from his thighs and down to his legs. **Blood**

"Oh you're so tight." Marcus hissed in Sherlock's ear "What a lovely little Virgin."

_Let it End. Please, just let it End._

The pain began to escalate now, and he bit back a scream of anguish. He felt black seep into his vision and he let the merciful blackness claim him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow! I can't thank all of you who have Reviewed, Faved and Followed enough! Thank you guys so much! Anyway, this chapter is short and might contain a little trigger for some, but for those who read, enjoy!**

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><p>Lestrade opened Sherlock's cell and strode in casually, holding a mug of tea in one hand and a piece of paper in the other<p>

"Alright, Sherlock, your name's been cleared an- Jesus Christ!" the DI dropped his mug and it dropped to the ground. Sherlock lay on the floor in a half-naked heap; surrounded by blood and something else entirely. A man was looming over him with a smug look

_Please make that not that I think_

"Back up! NOW!" Lestrade nearly screamed at the two men down the corridor. Within a blink of an eye, the two men were roughly dragging Marcus to his feet. Before anyone could even bat an eyelid, Lestrade moved in and punched him fiercely on the nose and blood gushed out.  
>"Get him out of my face before I kill him. Call an Ambulance and get the wise guy who put Sherlock in here with <em>him<em>" the men nodded and dragged the bigger man away harshly. Lestrade then put his full attention to Sherlock and kneeled by him.

"Sherlock? Sherlock mate, are you alright? C'mon, please be OK…" Lestrade moved to cover Sherlock's remaining dignity but the moment his fingers made contact with the fabric of the tall man's trousers, Sherlock's eyes snapped open and he screamed. Lestrade nearly tumbled backwards as Sherlock shoved him weakly away and began to crawl pitifully to the other side of the room

"Sherlock… Sherlock!" Lestrade said "It's me, Greg! Greg Lestrade!" his words made no difference, Sherlock continued to crawl away, sobbing like a child.

"Please, Please! Not again!" Sherlock pleaded and Lestrade's heart nearly broke at the tone and pain in the Consulting Detective's voice. Sherlock's arms gave out on him and he collapsed in a heap, unconscious from blood loss and shock.  
><em>He would better off be dead<em> Lestrade thought bitterly. Marcus was going to _pay_.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Just a warning for mentions of rape, yadda, yadda, yadda. Guys, I am really sorry for the 2 month wait, I know it isn't a lot for such a long period of time and I'm sorry if the chapter is crap. I've been really stuck on ideas for ages. But I promise, the next chapter will be better.**

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><p>John Watson jumped as his phone began to ring and he immediately answered it<p>

"Hello?" he said

"John?" Lestrade's voice floated through the phone, he sounded a little off but the blonde brushed it off

"Yeah, Greg, how's Sherlock?"

"I need you to come over to the Station" John smiled; they were finally going to release Sherlock. He knew his friend was innocent since the beginning. "I'm on my way" He said cheerily, hung up and grabbed his coat.

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><p>Once he arrived, John could hear screaming from the other side of Lestrade's office door. After a few moments, he heard the shouting stop and he knocked on the door before opening it. He saw Lestrade looming over a terrified looking officer who looked around the age of 30. He saw the DI look up<p>

"J-John!"

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><p>Greg Lestrade hung up on the call he had with John, his heart practically stopping. John thought Sherlock was going to be released. Poor, poor John. How could he break it to him? He shook his head once there was a knock on the door<p>

"Come in!" he barked and Sargeant Timothy Butler came in. Ah, just the man he was going to bite the head off.

"Sir I-" Butler began but was cut off by Lestrade screaming

"What the Hell were you thinking?!"

"I-I was just following your orders sir." The Sergeant said, his voice wavering a little

"Following my orders?! You did _not_ follow my orders. I told you to put Sherlock in his **OWN** cell."

"I didn't see any harm was to come to him at the time, Sir"

"Any Harm? **ANY HARM**?! Did you see the **STATE** Sherlock was in?! Over half of the people in this prison are here because of him! Do you have any idea what one of them would do to Sherlock bloody Holmes if they could get their hands on him?!"

"No sir."

"Did you even think _twice_ about what you were doing?"

"Yes Sir"

"Next time, you should think three- Actually you know what? Scrap that. You're fired. Get out before I lock you behind bars with one of the most violent inmates I can find." Lestrade's voice was low and threatening. There was a knock of the door and the sound of it creaking open. Lestrade looked up in surprise to who was at the door

"J-John!" he stammered

"Sorry, was I interrupting something?" John asked politely

"No, No." Lestrade shot a glare to the ex-Police Man in front of him "Sergeant Butler was just leaving." He was resisting the urge to add 'Permanently' to the sentence. Butler left without another word, closing the door silently behind him.

"What was that about?" John said as Lestrade motioned him to sit

"I'll talk about that later." Lestrade swallowed the lump in his throat "But first, I need to talk to you about Sherlock." John's smile faded and was replaced with a worried frown.

"What about him?" "John, whatever I tell you know, I need to keep calm." John's heart sped up rapidly and he stood up abruptly. Something had happened.

"Why? What's happened? Greg? What's happened to Sherlock?" John was asking a dozen questions a minute , most of them he couldn't even say. Was it bad? Was Sherlock hurt? Worse?

"John what I tell you now, you need to be calm to hear." John took a few hesitant breaths. It was bad.

"I'm calm… Just answer my question. What. Happened. To. Sherlock?" John spat through gritted teeth

"John…" Lestrade took a deep breath and closed his eyes "Sherlock was raped in his cell." John could feel the gears in his brain whirring, trying to evaluate the information in which was just given to him.

"W-What?" he managed to choke out

"Sherlock was put into a cell with someone against my strict orders not to. I was out on another case at the time and I came as soon as I heard. John I am so sorr-"

"Who did it?" John interrupted rudely

"Marcus Carlton" the ex-soldier grew pale

"Wasn't he-"

"Yes." John spat out a curse word

"Where is he?! I'm gonna rip that sorry bastard to shreds!" John roared and stormed out of Lestrade's office "John!" Lestrade grabbed John's shoulder and made him turn "I know you want to kill him, hell, I won't hide the fact I want to, but beating Marcus to a pulp won't help anything. Right now, I think its best that you go home." "How can I go home?!" John laughed sourly

"My best friend has been _raped_, by a man who should be bloody tortured and killed, and is currently in Hospital probably scared out of his roght mind and you expect me to go home?" Lestrade was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again "

I'll take you to him. But you will not like what you see."


	5. Chapter 5

The moment they arrived at the hospital, John didn't wait for the car to stop, he opened the door and strode into the building. He walked to the front desk and a woman looked up

"How can I help you today, Sir?" she asked politely

"Holmes." John barked a little too harshly "Sherlock Holmes." The woman typed on the computer and John waited in agonising silence, not noticing Lestrade walk up behind him

"Yes, Mr Sherlock Holmes. Arrived here fifteen minutes ago. He's in room 328. Unfortunately you won't be able to vis- Hey!"  
>The nurse stood up as John walked away, rushing to the room she stated. Lestrade shot the receptionist a glare and she sat back down, frightened.<br>John barrelled down the correct corridor and saw Mycroft, equipped with his umbrella, waiting outside.

"Ah, Doctor Watson"

"Where is he?" John growled, in nowhere near the mood for such pleasantries

"He is inside." Mycroft said, calmly, stepping to the side "You had best hurry, my brother isn't reacting all too well to the treatment he is receiving." John clenched his jaw as he threw open the doors of the room. The sight that greeted him chilled the ex-soldier to the bone.

Sherlock was surrounded by doctors and nurses, his eyes were wide and panicked and he was screaming, his curly hair plastered to his scalp in a wet mop of a mess. He was still wearing the clothes he had worn the last time John had seen him except his coat was gone, his trousers were hanging loosely off his hips and his shirt was almost fully drenched in blood and god knows what else. Lestrade and Mycroft entered the room, the DI shocked and Mycroft showing some hints or worry and surprise at his brother's condition.

"Mr Holmes, you need to calm down" a doctor said, stepping forwards. Sherlock retreated backwards into a corner; tears were growing in Sherlock's eyes

"You're scaring him." John whispered, Lestrade giving him a look

"We need to get him sedated" another doctor said and a nurse nodded, exiting the room. She came back a few minutes later. The moment she entered with the syringe in hand Sherlock shrieked in horror. John had seen and heard more than enough

"YOU'RE SCARING HIM!" John screamed and everybody stopped and looked at the blonde in surprise. John moved hastily, nudging nurses and doctors out of the way before skidding to a halt in front of Sherlock's quivering form. He kneeled by the detective and slowly reached out to touch the others shoulder. The moment he just brushed the shirt, Sherlock jumped away, screaming bloody murder.

"Oh please God no! Don't hurt me, not again, not again!" John's heart tugged at the sound of such anguish and terror in his friend's voice.

"Sherlock" he said softly and the taller man looked at him, fear evident in those dark orbs "It's me, John. Your flatmate."

_Your best friend_

"J-John?" Sherlock whispered like a terrified child and his eyes seem to glint a little.

"Yes, it's me, Sherlock, you know I would never hurt you. Never, Sherlock" John held out a hand again to his friend, coaxing him to show he wasn't going to harm him. Sherlock stared at it as if it were on fire for a few milliseconds before shoving it away and canoeing into John, wrapping his limbs around the blonde's frame and clutching him tightly as if his life depended on nothing more than that.

"John" Sherlock sobbed like a child and John was taken aback for a few moments. Sherlock had never cried in front of anyone before. Not even him. "Please make it stop. Get me out of here. I don't like it here. Stop it. I don't like it. Make it stop!"

"Make what stop, Sherlock?" John whispered gently and gave a look to Lestrade. The DI got the message and shooed all of the annoyed nurses and doctors out of the

"I-it hurts…" Sherlock whimpered

"Where?" Sherlock slurred what seemed to be nonsense, his words lost in John's jacket.

"Sherlock, you need to speak louder for me" John said, rubbing Sherlock's back in an attempt at comfort of the situation

"Everywhere! My arms, my legs, my hips, and my stomach and… and… down _there_…" John nodded in understanding

"OK, Sherlock" he said, still rubbing Sherlock's back

"John?" Sherlock snivelled and John nearly cried at the sound of such distress and agony dripping from the single word

"Yes, Sherlock?" he choked out

"Don't leave me again."

John's worst fear had come true. Sherlock Holmes, the great Consulting Detective, was truly broken.


End file.
